


Five Times Jeff and Stone Almost... (And One Time They Do)

by disco_theque



Category: Pearl Jam
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 10:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disco_theque/pseuds/disco_theque
Summary: I mean, it’s all in the title. Five times they almost, one time they do. Follows them from MLB to today. They’re cute and sappy and rockstars and these are six vignettes over the years.
Relationships: Jeff Ament/Stone Gossard
Kudos: 8





	Five Times Jeff and Stone Almost... (And One Time They Do)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello. It’s been a long while, and I hope that this sparks my writing more regularly. Either way, I wanted to get this posted today. It’s for you, Violet <3

i.

“...Mmhmm… Okay, sure, that sounds great. … Yep, thank you, g’bye.”

“Well?”

“We got it.”

“Holy shit.” 

Jeff barely has time to set the receiver down on its cradle before Stone is in his space, in his arms, throwing his own around him. A contract. A good fucking recording contract. A label wants to pay them money (“The money we deserve, Jeffrey”) to record their songs. 

“I can’t believe we-”

“We’re gonna fucking do-” They both start at the same time, then stop and laugh, loud and warm and holding onto each others’ arms, neither making any effort to move from the way Stone came at him. “Go ahead,” Stone says, his voice full of giddy laughter.

“I don’t… Stone, this is huge.” Jeff’s voice grows soft as he talks, and Stone nods slightly, lets his laughter calm down to a wide smile. “I could… Could I quit the Raison? Holy shit.” Stone nods more emphatically as Jeff pieces together what this all means. Jeff opens his mouth to add another thought, then closes it again and shakes his head, laughing again and pulling Stone in to a tighter hug. 

“Easy, easy, big guy,” Stone laughs into his neck, “I’m gonna need these limbs when I become a world famous rockstar.” The word settles in, and they both pull back from their embrace again, arms still around each other. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Wow.” 

ii.

Weeks, then months pass, after it happens, and Jeff hasn’t given much thought to anything beyond getting himself through each day. He’s been pulling espresso shots again, picking up odd jobs when he can, and hasn’t so much as touched his bass beyond moving it around his apartment every so often to dust behind it. But then Stone had called, then called again, again, once with McCready, then a few more times by himself, then showed up and there they were, cross-legged with guitars and facing each other on Jeff’s kitchen floor, popcorn coming to life in the microwave. 

“...and Mike really thinks I… We need you.” Stone finishes, eyes growing wide as he closes his mouth, like he can’t quite believe what he’s saying, that he’s on Jeff’s kitchen floor, that he actually just spent the last five minutes pitching himself to be Jeff Ament’s bandmate all over again. 

“Oh, does he?” Jeff keeps his voice playful, a touch lighter than his typical rasping drawl, as he looks up from where his frayed strap is connected to his bass, to Stone, his eyes dancing and mouth quirking at one corner, “Tell ya what. Get that popcorn good and seasoned, and I’ll think about this band of yours.” 

There’s an off-key clatter and flailing limbs as Stone scrambles to set his guitar down and stand up, but before he can open the microwave door, he pauses, exhales, and turns back to where Jeff is still sitting on the floor, now openly smiling up at him. He smiles back, opens his mouth, closes it, then starts in on the popcorn, choosing spices as he talks. “So, we don’t have much yet. We’re playing shit for each other, ya know? Old riffs I haven’t thought about in years, then Mike does his thing where he closes his eyes and plays and fuckin’ sails off into this other plane of existence, I swear, and we really don’t know what we want to-”

“Stone?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad we’re doing this.”

Stone takes a slow breath and adds a few more dashes of garlic powder to the popcorn before he turns back to Jeff. “You’re in?”

“Think so. What am I gonna do, grind coffee beans for the rest of my life?” 

“Ames, I-” Stone starts and pauses, laughs a little. “I think it could be good… Y’know, for us.” Jeff nods, and Stone can’t help but move closer to him, where he’s still sitting. Before he can think about it, he has a hand in Jeff’s hair, and he ruffles it, and Jeff lets out a small, surprised noise, but his smile doesn’t falter. It’s sweet, maybe bordering on intimate, but his smile feels easier, more natural than any had in the last several months, so Stone keeps his hand there for maybe a little longer than he needs to.

iii.

“I swear, I am this close to smashing your fucking bass if you don’t-”

“We’re taking five.” Ed’s tired voice carries into the booth from the mixing room, interrupting Stone so he’s left with a sour look on his face, mouth still open. Stone watches as Ed and Brendan head out into the hall, and he realizes the other guys must be long gone, too. Across the tiny booth, Jeff is shaking his head.

“What?”

Jeff snorts, but goes back to fiddling with his tuning. 

“What.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

“...What?”

“Know any other words?” A grin flashes across Jeff’s face at the way Stone’s face screws up at that. “I’d like to see you try and smash my bass.” Stone’s face screws up further, and Jeff snorts again. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re infuriating.” 

“Okay.”

“Can you stop adjusting your tuning and argue with me?”

“Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Stone shrugs his guitar off and sets it on a stand, and Jeff steals a glance at him. “Ames, we have five minutes to sort this shit out. Come on, I’m not messing-“

“I don’t have anything to sort out.” Jeff sighs as he talks, setting his bass down, knowing whether he likes it or not, he’s in this now. “You’re the one arguing with everything I say and shitting on all my ideas. I’m just trying to get my track finished before the fucking sun rises.”

“That is not what I’m… god, stop making me out to be this…” 

“What the fuck?”

“What?” Somewhere along the way, Stone had moved across the room, to just inches from Jeff, close enough that Jeff can feel the exhale that accompanies Stone’s latest ‘what.’ They stay frozen there for a long moment, until Jeff shakes his head again, backs up the slightest bit, and exhales loudly.

“This isn’t getting anywhere. Can we just-”

“What?”

“Stone, for the love of… Fuck, forget it. I’ll try it in your tuning. Just, can you…?” Jeff gestures to the small space between them, fingertips brushing the sleeve of Stone’s t-shirt. Despite his squared shoulders, ready for a fight with Jeff he’s fairly certain isn’t really going to happen, the fabric fluttering makes Stone shudder, and Jeff notices, huffs out another small laugh. “Doin’ okay there, buddy?”

“Of course I am, for chrissake, Jeff.” Stone moves to run his fingers through his hair, nothing more than a reflex now that it’s been a few weeks since he had it cut short. “Don’t-” Stone starts, smile tugging at his lips, assuming Jeff is ready to laugh at him again, but Jeff holds his hands up innocently.

“I’ll be good, okay? Just wanna get outta here.”

“Uh huh.”

“Honest!” It’s accompanied by a grin, and before Jeff can say more, Ed buzzes back in from the booth.

“You two got your shit sorted?”

“What?” Stone asks, loud, and Jeff cracks up. 

iv.

They’re drunk. 

Like, exceedingly drunk. Like, on most other nights, Jeff would have stopped two drinks ago, and Stone wouldn’t have been far behind. They’re a little too old for this, for one thing. Half of Jeff’s beard goes gray now when he lets it grow out, and Stone’s alluded to his ailments in more than one interview. They’re both going to be in pain in the morning.

But, for now, they’re drunk.

Everything’s coming up Pearl Jam, and for the first time in a while, they’re letting themselves believe it, letting themselves let go, letting themselves have a Night at whatever bar this is, in whatever European city their tour is playing the next night. Quite frankly, it doesn’t matter - it stopped mattering when the bartender offered them shots and Jeff accepted a tray and Stone was the only other one down for them. 

“I… am drunk.” Stone says it matter-of-factly, eyes wide with amazement and the effort it takes to not crack up mid-word. Jeff nods in agreement, slow, for too long, until they do both crack up, and they have to hang onto each other’s arms to stay upright. After a moment, they start swaying, even though Jeff has complained about the awful music a handful of times through the evening. “You’re drunk, too,” Stone declares.

“Huh?” 

“We’re dancin’ and you’re drunk.” 

“You’re drunk,” Jeff replies quick, no thought behind it, running on the instinct he’s honed over decades of Stone in his life.

“Yeah!”

That sends another laugh coursing through Jeff’s body, and he pulls Stone into a squeeze of a hug, and they stay like that, tangled together, swaying and laughing and dancing to the awful music, until the song cuts out and switches to something slower, less chaotic. Jeff hums into Stone’s hair, a contented noise Stone can hardly hear, but he feels the warm breath against his ear. It makes him shiver, even though the bar is sweaty, which just makes Jeff wrap his body around him more thoroughly. 

“‘m not cold, Ames,” Stone mumbles into his neck, and instead of replying, Jeff just hums again. Stone’s lips are still against his neck, and he can feel more than hear his hum this time, and it makes him smile. 

v. 

“This is why I don’t fuss with a button-down,” Jeff’s brow is furrowed in concentration, and Stone laughs softly, fondly.

“Oh, this is why?” Stone’s voice is warm as he tugs one side of his shirt collar back from Jeff’s fingers and turns back to the mirror, “Think ya fixed it, thanks.”

“Blazer time?” Jeff holds it up for Stone, who nods at his reflection and extends an arm for Jeff to slide it on for him. They’re quiet for a moment as Jeff runs his hands across Stone’s shoulders, smoothing the fabric, both of them watching in the mirror. “Fuckin’ Rock Hall…” Jeff murmurs, but his smile is big and there’s a tone of awe to his voice. 

“Fuckin’ Rock Hall,” Stone agrees, turning to face Jeff. “The t-shirt is perfect, you know.”

“I know.” 

“Cocky hall-of-famer.” Jeff just grins back at Stone, and before he can stick his tongue out at him, the alarm on his phone goes off, letting them know they have five minutes to get down to their waiting limo. “Jacket time?” Stone matches Jeff’s grin and picks up the leather from the nearby doorknob, and Jeff extends his arm like Stone had for him. They’re almost out the door when Jeff stops short, and Stone nearly runs into him.

“Shit, my-”

“Hat, got it!” Even though he doesn’t really need to, Jeff stoops forward a little so Stone can put his hat on his head - it’s fancier than usual, and reminds Stone of the one he wore for the Temple of the Dog reunion tour last year. He doesn’t say that, or anything else about it, but he keeps his fingers on the brim for a moment, locked in with Jeff in a stare they usually only share onstage. The corner of Jeff’s mouth quirks into a smile, and Stone eventually backs off, shakes his head, “Remember when we said we were gonna become rockstars?”

“Sure do, Stoney. Sure do.”

+.

“Arrivals, arrivals… Missoula… Hey, he’s on time!” Stone realizes the truly ridiculous teddy bear he’s carrying isn’t listening to him. “You couldn’t care less, huh?” 

SeaTac isn’t quite as crowded as it used to be, not yet, but it’s bustling enough that everything feels elevated, better, near normal. Jeff would usually just drive in, or get a rental car and head to a hotel, but Stone insisted - Jeff’s first time back in Seattle in over a year called for a special pick-up, and he couldn’t resist killing some time in the tackiest gift shop outside security. He smirks at Jeff’s “Just landed, gotta piss, they better hurry.” text, and finds a bench near baggage to wait.

Stone’s been caught in a Words With Friends battle with Ed for some time, so he lets himself get lost in their current game to pass the time. He doesn’t even notice when Jeff walks up, and his “They’ll let anyone into this airport nowadays” makes him jump so he almost knocks the teddy bear off the bench.

“Ames!”

“Stoney!”

“Holy shit!”

Jeff lets his suitcase fall over and he barely has time to spread his arms before Stone is in them, hugging him with all his might, making them both laugh, giddy and echoing and without a care. “Can you believe-”

“It’s been a year since we-”

“Fuck, I missed you,” Jeff pulls him back into yet another endlessly squeezing hug, and Stone squirms in his grasp, just a little, enough to shift back so their grins are lined up. They hold each other’s gaze for a moment longer, then Stone lets out a tiny, high noise, like he can’t get out what he’s feeling, and it’s all it takes. Their lips press together, just for a moment, and there’s no proverbial spark with it, it’s just what they need to do to express it all. Stone lets out a contended sigh, after, and Jeff shakes his head and looks down, a boyish mannerism he’s never outgrown, and laughs a little. “Please tell me that giant bear is for me.”


End file.
